


The Sea Is A Good Place To Think

by musics3xual



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Sadstuck, Suicide Attempt, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:05:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musics3xual/pseuds/musics3xual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your memories hate you. They grip your brain in their claws and dig into it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sea Is A Good Place To Think

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from 'The Sea Is A Good Place To Think About The Future' By Los Campesinos, and I recommend listening to it with this.

            You never quite get over the sharp knives of pain that stab through you every time you see them together. It’s gotten so harsh, so gut-wrenchingly horrible, the pain, that it has turned into a physical, aching pain; one that forces you to stare down at your feet whenever you walk by them, for fear of it returning to burn at you. It sits at the bottom of your stomach like the pit of an avocado. It never leaves, but you get used to it; you grow accustomed to the pain. You forget it’s there, until it tears through you like a bullet and you see him smile and you wonder if you could break that smile right off his ugly, stupid face.

            The cold, October, Santa Monica air bites at your nose, and the sand slips between your fingertips as you stare out at the black and white churned ocean. The beach is deserted.

It feels your skin has a layer of frost on it, though you know that to be not true after rubbing at your frozen cheeks a few times. The very retinas of your eyes simply ache; you spent most of last night on the computer. Finishing homework, drawing, editing photos you took, listening to music; lots of busy things. You didn’t talk to anyone though, of course. Who do you have to talk to?

You glance up at the grey sky for a second before returning to staring out at the endless expanse of water.

            The unforgiving, ice-cold air penetrates your huge, grape-purple jacket. You pull your sky-and-navy-blue striped scarf tighter around yourself. You feel the sand sliding around beneath your worn, deep blue skinny jeans. They have purple pinstripes on them; a lot of people you associated with, or used to associate with, told you they looked stupid.

            Fef always told you she thought they were cute.

            Another microscopic particle of your heart vaporizes into nothingness.

            You card a hand through your jelled hair. You recently re-dyed the deep purple stripe that ran through the top of your otherwise black hair. You had discarded your shoes in the sand not long ago, socks as well, and your toes curled and uncurled in the moist sand.

            The sea is a good place to think.

            You’re hallucinating. You see them here, but they’re not really here. It’s your mind filling up the space where Fef  _should_ be.

            You see them walking on the shoreline, holding hands. She’s giggling and smiling and looks so happy and for a second, you’re the one holding her hand and making her laugh and you smile because _wouldn’t that be nice?_  But then the vision changes and it’s HIM, and HE is holding her hand and making her smile and he has a stupid grin on his face that you know is so genuine and happy and so perfectly  _in love_ that it makes you want to smash his face in.

            The vision disappears and you’re alone again, left to deal with the broken heart shards that are probably lodging themselves in your stomach.

            You don’t know if the sky’s the one crying or you are, but your cheeks are wet and you forget how long you’ve been sitting here.

            Your arms wrap themselves around your knees and you hug them to yourself. You tell yourself it’s because it’s cold. It’s not.

            Your memories hate you. They grip your brain in their claws and dig into it.

            “We’ll always be friends,” Chirps out child Fef. “We were born for each other!” You hate your younger self for being so stupid as to believe her. Flash forward.

            “I love you, Eridan!” 14 year old Fef giggles at you. Even to 14 year old you, it hurts more than a punch to the face because you know  _she doesn’t mean it_. And then, just because you hate yourself, you tell her you love her too. Unlike her, you don’t lie. Flash forward.

            “Eridan, guess what? Sol and I are dating! He asked me out yesterday!” You were going to tell her you loved her tomorrow. Flash forward.

            “I can’t believe that… asshole broke up with me…” You let her sob on your shoulder. You hold her and tell her that he’s an asshole, but you know you’re a sick, disgusting creature because  _you’re so happy that she is hugging you and trusting you and maybe you have a chance._ Flash forward.  <__ FIX AGES

“I… Eridan, I… I don’t like you like that. We’re friends!” She stutters, a pink blush shading in her beautiful, heart-shaped face. You feel like your insides are about to become outsides. You smile and tell her it’s fine, you were just kidding. She smiles sweetly, perfectly, beautifully, and hugs you, telling you that she’s glad you were joking; she could never think of you like that. You have never wanted to die more in your entire existence, and damn, you’ve wanted to die for a long time.  Flash forward.

             You’re back at the beach. You don’t know when you got there, but you’re in the water, clothes and all. With each step the waves lick higher on your body, until you feel them around your neck and you have to tilt your head up to breathe. You smile as you take a huge step forward, submerged completely. You open your eyes and the ocean is calm and your thoughts are quiet.  _So this is what it feels like to be dead._

            You swim to the surface, but your clothes are pulling you down. You close your eyes and dunk your head underwater again, this time inhaling deeply once your there. It burns and it hurts and you feel like you want to choke or throw up but you’re smiling.

            You lose track of where you are. Which way is up?

            Your eyes feel heavy. You stop gasping. Your face relaxes.

            There are arms tugging on yours, and you try to kick and fight and scream and cry but all you can do is drift and let yourself be pulled to the surface. The beach was not deserted enough. Strong arms swim you back to shore and you fall down on the sand. It hurts, it hurts and you want to die but some idiot would let you get what you want. There are lips on yours and you feel breath in your lungs. Your become less disoriented and you gasp and sputter and try to find the air. There is hysterical screaming and crying behind you, and suddenly, you have found out that god is a sick, sick man who just wants you to suffer endlessly forever.

Because Fef is screaming and crying. And her boyfriend just saved your life.

            Love is cruel, and you, Eridan, have lost hope, and you know what dying feels like. 


End file.
